{Caravan/Open} What does the future hold in store?

[weaving]

I said no ‘Mith! Now, please, stop nagging! Lennae hadn’t meant to yell and as soon as the green’s emotions turned to hurt and confusion, she regretted it. Frowning with a soft sigh, the young woman reached up to rub wearily at the bridge of her nose. All she had wanted to do was see what clothing was being sold and perhaps buy a new shirt or two. Of course, as soon as she had mentioned going down to the caravans, Amith had begun hinting at how nice a pet would be. She’d heard from other dragons that there were eggs for sale. If others had them, why couldn’t her Lennae, who deserved to have friends as much as anyone else.

Lennae found a rock and plopped down on it to think out an apology to the saddened green. Amith really was only doing what she thought would be best, but Lennae didn’t want any company. Amith was all that she needed along with the casual encounter with the other occupants of Selenitas. Any other creature simply wasn’t necessary. I’m sorry Amith, I didn’t mean to snap. Please forgive me.

I just want you to be happy again, the green replied, and while a hint of dejection still tainted her mindvoice, Lennae could already feel that Amith’s mood was brightening. I know. Maybe Manners will spend more time with us? Would that be nice? Speaking of the bronze salamandyr, he had been sleeping, curled up nicely around Lennae’s shoulder, but had woken up when she had sat rather suddenly and jerkily. He trilled sleepily, head lifted to survey the busy area. The ‘mandyr had wanted to see what the caravan was all about but Jermayan slept most of the day away. He’d decided that if his bonded wouldn’t join in the festivities then he would join someone who would, hence why he was currently with the green rider.

Ohhh, pretty nighttime! Prettypretty stars! Manners had caught sight of the starcrafter tent. Used to being awake during the night, it was easy to see why he would find the tent alluring, for indeed the fabric was coated in many stars, similar to that of the night sky. Go see, please?

And why not? Things patched up between her and Amith, Lennae stood once more, heading over toward the tent that had caught the bronze salamandyr’s interest. She read down the list of services provided. Fortune reading? Probably just a bunch of nonsense, but it couldn’t hurt, right/ Perhaps a bit of luck would come her way soon. Go in?

“Maybe,” Lennae murmured, reaching up to stroke the bronze’s spine. He crooned under her touch while she stood there, debating whether or not it was worth it.

[glamourie]

"You're responsible for this!?!"
"Well. Yeah. But it's a queen! Everyone loves queens!"
"NOT ME!"
"You don't like her? But she's cute --"
"KELIRIS!"
"It's K'lir now--"
"Shut up. SHUT UP. You. Stallkeeper, can you give me one of the eggs from that basket?"
"What? I don't -- Showoff will eat it, R'wign."
"Oh no. You see, the egg he picked? It's bigger than Showoff is, he can't eat it."
"You're going to give me an avian? I'll kill you."
"Shut up and take it or I'll tell Marra you're responsible."
"You wouldn't."
"Oh yes. Yes I would."

---

He hated R'wign, and he was determined to punish him somehow. That was K'lir's thoughts as he walked through the crowded caravans with his arms wound around a bag containing nothing more than a single egg. The egg was larger than a salamandyr egg, around the size of a large flit egg. It was also very plain, a stark white, which made it obvious it wasn't anything draconic. If he'd thought it would do any good, K'lir would have given the egg away. He didn't have time for another pet. He had a baby at home! ... And Calistoth, who hated everything but him! And Showoff who was prone to bouts of excessive possessiveness. He'd thrown a tantrum at "Ellie's" egg. Let alone one K'lir was keeping. He was very angry.

The salamandyr on his shoulder was just as enraged by the egg as he was, and Showoff kept licking his claws as he watched it - clearly contemplating the best way to eat the little monstrosity. He could crack it and then lap up the yummies inside, or he could push it over... his claws would work just fine, he thought, his little eyes whirling wickedly. It would make a good little meal.

SMACK.

So distracted was he by the egg in his bag that K'lir failed to notice he was walking right in the direction of one of the tents. He was busy staring at the shell (which, he noticed, was beginning to look more and more hard - as if on the verge of hatching...). So it was to his great surprise when his face collided with one of the wooden posts holding up the Starcrafter tent. Even more surprised was he when his vision blurred and he promptly toppled backwards, landing in a sprawled heap with his bag on his chest (his arms were wound protectively around it, as though to keep the egg within from harm). Showoff dislodged from his shoulder and, to avoid being crushed, had most effectively latched himself onto K'lir's face, little claws digging into the flesh as he let loose with a deafening shriek everyone at the caravans was certain to hear. His little wings did nothing to slow his fall, but he was unharmed... mostly just startled.

K'lir laid sprawled out on the ground, eyes clenched closed as if he believed if he faked being asleep, no one would notice him. Unfortunately, someone already had: the green to whom he was bonded. Though he couldn't see her, he knew very well that Calistoth was rumbling and loudly, taking great delight in Hers' clumsiness. The greenrider scowled beneath Showoff and lifted one hand to peel the startled salamandyr from his face, before muttering a string of obscenities that the creature was sure to repeat somewhere soon - likely in public. Showoff was very fond of making K'lir look like a bad influence in public. There was a reason he knew so many curse words.

Dungheadmine BAD ow ow me no like, the salamandyr proclaimed as K'lir sat up. Eggmine I eat no broke?

"Showoff, you're not eating the egg. It's as big as you. You'll get fat," the redhead replied, while pointedly glaring at the tent... as if it was the tent's fault he fell. However, a wave of amusement from Calistoth made him twitch and he looked up at the sky. Calistoth was far enough away not to frighten anything, but he was sure she knew exactly what sort of face he was making at her. She knew him very well even if she did like to be pure evil. "What is so funny, you overgrown green blob?"

Amith's is standing right behind you. Didn't you use to like her? Like-like? Like with Adith's? -- She just saw you fall. It is amusing to me.

[weaving]

She’d just decided that nah, she didn’t need to have her fortune told after all and was about to turn away when she spied a rather familiar figure coming toward her. Although, on second thought, it really didn’t seem that he was paying much attention to where he was going at all, his gaze focused instead on a bag that he was carrying about. Even knowing that he probably hadn’t seen her, Lennae’s stomach flip-flopped in nervousness. She hadn’t talked to him since returning from High Reaches and had actually been avoiding him at first. She had just up and left after all and seeing as most people didn’t enjoy being abandoned by their friends, she doubted that K’lir was much different. And then there was always the matter of the small crush that she’d once had on the young man, something that she’d manage to forget until now.

So, rather than leave, Lennae stood there, torn between catching his attention and simply letting him pass her by. What if he was purposely ignoring her? On the other hand, what if he really was so preoccupied that he simply didn’t notice her standing there? It wasn’t until she realized that he was headed straight for one of the wooden posts of the Starcrafter tent and that he wasn’t slowing down at all that she decided to do anything.

“K’lir! Watch o-“ Too late. She winced at the rather loud thunk made by his head colliding with the wood, eyes half closed and face turned to the side in an automatic grimace. Looking back at K’lir, she was only slightly surprised to find him now sprawled out on the ground. Momentary worry that he might be dead subsided as one hand lifted to grab at Showoff, who was clinging to his face. Manners, who’d been watching in silence, suddenly sprung into action, leaping from Lennae’s shoulder and scurrying over toward the other greenrider.

Manthing hurt? Go THUNK not good. Need fixing? The ‘mandyr questioned, perching himself on K’lir’s thigh and staring at his face inquisitively. Lennae stifled a smile at the tiny bronze’s reaction. Soon enough, he’d be diagnosing Jermayan’s patients for the healer, she thought with amusement as she walked around K’lir to face him.

“I’m sure he’s fine Manners,” she told the bronze wryly. “His head’s too hard to let a little knock like that do him any damage. Need a hand up?” The words slipped out with ease as she quickly settled into the friendly banter that she and K’lir had once shared. She held out a hand in offering, though wouldn’t be surprised if he chose not to take it. She eyed the bag he held protectively, curious, though she was sure that she’d learn it’s contents soon enough. For now it was probably best to get K’lir standing, before his strange antics drew anyone’s attention.

[glamourie]

Speaking. Lennae. Lennaaaaae. K'lir's stomach twisted into knots, and he forcibly looked down at the source of speaking only to find... a salamandyr? When had Lennae Impressed a salamandyr? HE ATTENDED EVERY HATCHING. How had he not noticed her? Was he distracted with Uu'n? Did she hate him? Had he ignored her completely somehow? Thousands of panicked thoughts filled his mind and he stared at the salamandyr speaking to him in horror. He was sure that if Lennae had Impressed one of Showoff's evil spawn (and the majority of them were Showoff's evil spawn), he'd know -- especially a bronze. The only people with bronzes he could think of were Kalierre, that bluerider, that brown wherhandler, and himself, though. Surely there weren't any more? Had more hatched? Lust and Showoff from the first clutch, then he didn't remember any more from the second. His stomach twisted tightly, and he visibly twitched. Twice. How had he overlooked Lennae being there...? Not the last clutch, it was tiny, but... but...

"Hi, Lennae."

He sounded so stupid. That was his first thought. Yet K'lir found himself rubbing his nose and turning to look at the other greenrider with a weak grin. He hoped the expression looked more sincere than he felt. Unfortunately, his embarrassment was quickly blotted out by a sudden burst of rage not his own but filling him as if it was. Showoff shrieked loud enough that some of the birds in a nearby cage got started with squawking and chittering. The bronze did not appear to notice, instead launching himself forward at Manners in defiance. His frill flared wide and he twitched his little wings, his entire body flattening in a danger posture. His tail stretched out as far as it would go and Showoff hissed audibly, his little claws digging into K'lir's shirt.

Is mine, he said with no small amount of malice in those words. No other salamandyrs, save Dael, were ever allowed to sit on K'lir. It was a wonder Showoff hadn't actually fought with others of his kind, so possessive was he. He barely tolerated Calistoth, let alone any other draconid species. He'd fought badly with K'lir's firelizard before it died, and he was fully willing to fight with Manners if he didn't get off of K'lir. It didn't matter what his intentions were. Fact was, the greenrider was his, and he'd fight for him. Go. Now. You go now. Is mine. You go now. Another low hiss escaped him, his eyes whirling a scarlet that made his hide seem more bronze than red in comparison. Showoff's anger was undeniable. Perhaps if Manners wasn't another bronze, he would have been less enraged -- but he was a bronze, and that made him a threat. Threats were unacceptable, and Showoff was very, very much willing to defend what was his.

"Stop it, Showoff," K'lir scolded as he reached down to peel the very angry salamandyr off of him and away from Manners. It was hard, considering the level of agitation spreading through him. "I'm sure that -- Manners? -- knows I'm yours. Okay?" He glanced down apologetically at the other salamandyr (who clearly meant no harm) and set Showoff on his shoulder. How embarrassing that Showoff had to pick Lennae's little pet to be so horrible to! K'lir's face was turning as red as Showoff's eyes, even though he was also consumed by an anger he couldn't describe. Fortunately for him, he was getting better at separating his own feelings from Showoff's. "You behave yourself. He doesn't mean any harm. He's just trying to help. See? Help."

Is mine, Showoff repeated, rapidly flattening himself back down into battle mode. He did not move closer, though. K'lir's force of will was strong enough to prevent him from outright attacking. He was tempted, though.

Turning back to Lennae, K'lir tilted his head to the side. His blushing started to fade slightly. "What would you know about how hard my head is?" he asked, voice intentionally light as though to signify that he was teasing. His hands curled in the strap of his bag. It felt awkward to poke fun at her - he half-expected to get yelled at for it - but he couldn't stop himself anyway. Once upon a time, Lennae was one of the only friends he had. That made her special; she'd liked him before he was anybody worth liking. She and Beka were the only people who had. Well, and R'wign, but R'wign didn't count in his opinion on account of buying him an avian egg. If it turned out to be a rooster he was naming it Rawign in a show of vindictive pettiness. K'lir squinted and stood back up properly, dusting himself off. One hand moved down to Manners to keep from dislodging him in the process; the touch was gentle, but meant to be secure. "I don't recall you touching it any time recently. Maybe it softened. You never know..."

[weaving]

“Hey.” Lennae returned the greeting warmly, he lips twitching upward despite her best attempts to keep a straight face. He seemed embarrassed, which was odd. It was probably just the fact that she’d managed to see his rather ungraceful collision. No one liked to be caught in such a situation after all. The fact that she wasn’t fully able to silence a few chuckles probably hadn’t helped things either. At least she’d managed to hold back until he’d proven that he was in fact alive. Whether or not he’d suffered any brain damage had yet to be seen.

Do not want! Have own humanthing. Only want help! Why did everyone attack him when he was only trying to be nice? First that annoying green pest that the apprentice healer held and now Showoff. Why would Manners want their humanthings anyway? He had his own and he wouldn’t trade Jermayan for anyone else in the entirety of Pern. He flattened and took a few steps backward at Showoff’s words, ragged frill flaring slightly in agitation. While not giving up his perch just yet, Manners wasn’t in the mood to fight and it wouldn’t take too much more of Showoff’s threats to get him to leave.

Lennae sighed as she realized the predicament that Manners had gone and gotten himself in. The easygoing nature and lack of selfishness in the bronze made him the exception to the salamandyr species, not the rule, something that he hadn’t realized. “C’mon Manners. Jermayan would have a fit if you went and got yourself torn apart on my watch.” She knelt to offer a hand to the ‘mandyr, who refused, leaping to K’lir’s other thigh. Want to help, he announced stubbornly, eyeing Lennae’s hand warily.

With a sigh and a shake of her head, she stood up straight. Manners reminded her of a hardheaded child, only strengthening her desire to never have kids. Well then, he’d realize it soon enough. It probably wouldn’t be long until Showoff overcame K’lir’s will and attempted to attack the other bronze. Then Manners would figure out that K’lir’s thigh was probably not the best place to be.

“A head any harder would have broke that wooden post. As it was, I’m sure people across the river heard the thunk of your head smacking into that.” His teasing response had put her at ease and worry that he might, for some reason, be angry at her diminished. If she had done something to upset him, well, she’d rather not think about it. Instead, she reached out with one fist to tap lightly on the side of K’lir’s skull, grinning broadly. “Yup, just as I expected. Still hard as a rock.”

Manners had moved from thigh to hand as K’lir stood, and now leapt back onto Lennae, snagging the bottom of her shirt and scrambling up it quickly to resume his perch on her shoulder. He’d had enough of Showoff for the moment, choosing to glare at him safely from a distance. So much for trying to help.

[glamourie]

"I'm okay," K'lir reassured, talking to Manners as if he was another person. Dealing with Showoff for Turns had taught the greenrider that salamandyrs, no matter how evil most of them happened to be, were exceptionally intelligent creatures. Most of them greatly appreciated being addressed as equals, and, in his experience, it got him further with them than trying to talk over them the way one would a firelizard. They were clearly superior to their winged cousins. "Don't worry. I appreciate your help, but I'm fine. Like Lennae said, I've got a really hard head. More hurt from the way this one decided to latch onto my face than anything else." He shot a glance at the bronze on his shoulder, still in combat mode, and scrunched up his nose in distaste. Manners had hopped off him. Wasn't that good enough? Why did Showoff feel the need to stay angry for so long? He was sure that Manners meant no offense. His name seemed to fit him very well, after all. Ugh. So did Showoff's, though... "Thank you, though."

Furious, Showoff darted down K'lir's arm and launched into the bag, out of sight. K'lir rolled his eyes at him. (The greenrider had temporarily forgotten about the egg in that bag, else he probably would have yanked him right back out.) His attention, however, quickly turned back to Lennae and he lifted one hand to knock on his own forehead, then made a face as though listening for a sound. When none came, he glanced sideways at his former classmate (and friend, in his opinion) with a slight shrug. "There's no echo. Means it's not hollow, at least?" Definite edge of amusement there, but K'lir was fond of making jokes most others did not find funny. "If it was I'd have to steal someone else's, though." Pause. Smirk. "Think R'wign heard? I hope so -- he's angry with me right now because I gave him a mystery egg that just happened to hatch a queen firelizard. He wants my head on a platter."

Don't sound proud, whatever you do, Calistoth commented wryly. You need to stop giving Checkoth other females. I've decided he's mine.

"Good luck with that," K'lir said out loud (sure that Lennae would understand he was talking to Calistoth). Then he turned back to the other greenrider and cocked his head to the side. "He told me you ran into him - and Showoff - at the Gather where..." A slight flush passed over his face. Where Calistoth had created utter havoc. He remembered completely demolishing R'non's weyr, and felt certain the bronzerider probably thought very little of him. While he didn't like R'non, it was embarrassing to say the least. Not to mention he'd heard rumors of some young healer being mauled by Z'hin. He'd never asked to find out for sure. He didn't want to know. It was too hard to imagine he was responsible for something like that. He blamed Calistoth entirely. It was her who chose to Rise at the most inconvenient time possible. It wasn't as though he could stop her or anything!

Light tapping came from inside the bag. K'lir didn't notice, instead eying Manners. "You look to Jermayan, do you? That explains it - he's that wherhandler." He nodded. "I knew you hadn't come to any of the salamandyr hatchings. I was sure I'd remember. If you want an egg, I can convince Uu'n to let me steal one for you. Dael can probably be bribed..." Sideways glancing, K'lir fidgeted. "So how do you know Jermayan...?"

[weaving]

No hurt is good. The manthing was very nice, much nicer than the nastybronze on his shoulder. He had even said thank you! Manners thrummed with pleasure, glad to know that at least someone here was polite. He eyed Showoff warily as the other bronze scurried, though relaxed once more as Showoff disappeared into the bag that K’lir carried. Good riddance to the nastybronze, he thought, curling up quite contentedly on Lennae’s shoulder. Out of sight, out of mind.

As K’lir mimicked her actions, Lennae couldn’t help but laugh. “I can’t say I blame R’wign. I’d probably do the same if I found myself suddenly saddled with a pet of any kind, let alone a queen.” Amith, who was listening in, brightened at the thought, though wisely kept silent, knowing better than to push the issue. “Well, I’m sure it won’t be long until he finds some way to get you back for it.” K’lir was a braver person than she. She wouldn’t ever do anything to irritate a healer, no matter if they were good friends. The idea of angering someone who might have to later save your life just didn’t sit well with her. Of course, this was Selenitas, where such actions would probably be repaid with some sort of prank.

R’wign had mentioned meeting her at the last gather to K’lir? Any chance that she might have had to contemplate that was forgotten as she remembered the rest of the gather at the other greenrider’s prompting. “Yeah. It was interesting,” she commented, a slight smile playing on her features as she recalled the memories. The holders certainly hadn’t appreciated the disturbance that had resulted when several riders consumed with flightlust had run rampant through the gather.

“An egg? No thank you. There’s a reason you haven’t seen me at any of the salamandyr hatchings. Much as Amith would love you for it, I think it might drive me crazy.” She shook her head vehemently, hardly able to repress a shudder at the thought of impressing a ‘mandyr, or any pet for that matter. Besides, she’d probably manage to accidentally kill it. She was hardly able to take care of herself sometimes. “In fact, feel free to alert me the next time a hatching is happening so that I can be sure to stay far, far away.”

K’lir’s next question caught her off-guard however. What did it matter how she knew Jermayan? Perhaps he was just trying to make small talk. That was probably it, she decided, pushing any other speculations firmly out of her head.

“You get pretty lonely in the infirmary at four in the morning,” she said with a slight shrug. “I caught some sort of cough that was bad enough to get stuck there for a few days. In between late-night coughing fits I made friends with the healers on night shift.” She fell silent after that, thinking of something to say, when she heard the tapping coming from K’lir’s back. “I think your bag is trying to tell you something,” she commented, eyes focused on it. She never had found out what was inside.

[glamourie]

"What kind of person doesn't have any pets?" K'lir inquired with a wry smile. He liked his pet. Even if Showoff was one of the most annoying creatures on the face of Pern; even if he was certain that his salamandyr was considered the nemesis of most things with wings at Selenitas weyr and indeed, anyone ranking (he distinctly remembered finding T'rid's underwear strung up in the main hall), he loved him. Truly he did. Showoff was one of the few creatures that liked him just for him, without any conditions. While he was very much a nuisance most of the time, K'lir wouldn't change anything about him, and he'd have missed him terribly if he was gone. "You need one. Like, a feline or something. Something independent that will just walk up and lay on your face periodically. I'm thinking extremely fluffy, with an absolutely huge tail and green eyes. I saw a kitten that fits the description. We can call it Lennaemonster."

While his first choice would've been a salamandyr - he thought everyone with a brain ought to have one - he was willing to respect that she didn't want to deal with any of them. They were stressful. How long had it taken him to break Calistoth and Showoff of their constant fighting? Too long; he'd gone with headaches for months it felt like. It was Showoff who caved first, too. Calistoth would probably still bicker with the little bronze if he gave her any ammunition. The green loved to fight - perhaps way too much for her own good.

"Well, if you really want a warning: Dael will be running any day now." That was probably more information than most people needed (especially considering the nature of salamandyr runs), but Lennae wasn't most people. K'lir would have told her anything if she asked, really. "She usually clutches a few sevendays later, maybe a month or so. So you can expect to have to run away around the time everything that glitters goes missing. Showoff gets notoriously bad about stealing when Dael is close to Running, then they pile all their stolen treasures onto the clutch in triumph. You really should come, though. Bring Manners. He can chase off any potential Impressions. Salamandyr hatchings are always interesting. Showoff likes trying to eat people."

Eat. Eat. That word distracted him from Lennae's answer and while she spoke, he nodded, only half listening. That was because he just recalled that Showoff intended to eat his egg that R'wign bought him and while he was not entirely opposed to the idea of being rid of whatever happened to be in it, he was sure R'wign would let him have it with both barrels if he allowed a potential pet to be eaten by his bronze monster. K'lir flung open the top of the bag in distress and fell to the ground on his knees, both hands moving into the interior. Cracking rapidly sounded, loud enough to be heard all around him, and Showoff leaped out of the bag and onto K'lir's shoulder. His frill flared in distress and his eyes whirled hints of scarlet; then the salamandyr leaned over to hiss accusingly at the bag. K'lir turned a similarly accusing glare onto the salamandyr, his expression darkening with each passing second.

"What. Did. You. Do. Showoff?!"

DIDNOTEAT! It crack! No eat! BAD UGLYPEST! Freckle was a bad influence; he'd picked up the word 'pest' from her and was rapidly hissing at the bag. He stood on his hind legs and flared his frill, puffing his body out to its absolute fullest. Look how big he was. He was dangerous. He could take on everything. His eyes were redder than his hide - a remarkable feat, considering how scarlet Showoff's skin was. NOWANT!

Quack.

K'lir blinked. Twice. Then glanced at Lennae, Showoff, and the bag again. "Did you hear---?" he asked, then reached into the bag. His fingers brushed something... odd. Fuzz. Newborn bird of some kind with fuzz. He cocked his head to the side, lifted his hands and stared at what appeared to be a white ball... that quacked in response to being lifted. "Are you - is this - is it a duck?!"

---

Name- ??
Species- Duck
Gender- Female
Age- Hatchling
Pet- K'lir
Physical Appearance- This duck is small and will always be small: At hatching, she'll fit easily into the palm of someone's hand, and even full-grown, she'll never be as large as some ducks get. However, this only adds to the attractiveness that she does have, for she has snow-white feathers that cover her entirely. A perfect adjective to describe said feathers would be fluffy, for she is exactly that: Fluffy. She'll never gain the sleek, streamlined appearance that some of her species boast, and will always rather resemble in both proportions and in the down-like feathers a hatchling. Awkward, too, is this duck, for her feet are large and she's constantly tripping over them and faceplanting, and likewise, her wings are very long and narrow, too. Her neck will always have a cheerful arch, though, and her head will never be held low (except when she's faceplanting, of course). Her beak and legs are the only not-white thing about her, being a vivid, golden yellow color.

Personality- Obscenely possessive is this duck. As a hatchling, and as an adult: She is the owner and in no way the pet. Her "pet" and his dragon will be hoarded fiercely, and any approaches -- by potential lovers, and even his other pets -- will be beaten back as swiftly as she can manage -- though that's not, strictly speaking, very swiftly, due to her almost crippling clumsiness. And indeed, she can be considered a cripple (a happy cripple; she's more content sitting on her pet's shoulder than trying to waddle around after him), for anything she attempts will almost certainly result in a few faceplants, broken glassware, etc. That's not for lack of trying, though, for in her determination to keep all else away from her pet and in anything else, she's very enthusiastic -- and loud. Squawking, squeaking, chirping: Her vocal cords can manage it all, and she shows off this talent often -- by way of distraction, since one of her favorite hobbies is gathering shinies and then presenting them to her pet. She'll never steal -- mostly because she always gets caught -- but instead, roots around gathering any that seem forgotten (or, alternatively, trying to take them from Showoff) and then running, tripping, and wobbling to her pet to make sure that her shinies will be safe.

[weaving]

“A feline?” Lennae wrinkled her nose at the suggestion. Granted, a cat was better than most pets that he could have suggested. It didn’t require constant attention like a canine or a firelizard would, and it would prove itself to be a nuisance to the entire weyr like a salamandyr would. If she absolutely had to get a pet, she supposed that a feline would do. But she wasn’t getting one, making the suggestion pointless. A kitten? Please get Lennaemine, lets get one? Lennae ignored Amith’s begging, forcing the green to turn to the only person who would help her: K’lir. Though normally too shy to engage in conversation with her own kind, let alone a person who wasn’t her rider, desperate times called for desperate measures. Please help ‘NaeMine get a kitten. She’s too lonely all the time. Please?

The greenrider’s eyes narrowed, immediately catching on to what Amith was doing. “You’d better not listen to her,” she grumped, though she didn’t have any good threats to make at the moment to deter him from it. Even if she did, she doubted she could actually go through with them. She’d simply have to hope that he would listen to her over her dragon. Somehow, she had the sinking suspicion that he would choose Amith over her, but for the moment she decided to think the best of the other greenrider.

She listened as he described the salamandyr hatchings. As amusing as they sounded, she wasn’t certain that she wanted to take the risk of getting stuck with one of the little monsters. Even with Manners there, the chances were still too high. It was a tough decision. Watch what would probably prove to be a great source of entertainment at the risk of getting a salamandyr, or remain safe in her weyr and bored out of her mind. Maybe if she stayed near the back, far enough away where she wouldn’t be noticed. “Alright, I’ll come,” she decided finally. “I’ll do my best to keep from impressing one of the critters, but if I do somehow manage to, note that I’ll somehow get it to follow you around everywhere.”

She blinked in surprise as K’lir dropped to the ground, at first thinking that perhaps he’d originally hit his head harder than they had thought and that it was just now beginning to show. Then he began rummaging through his bag and her fears were proved unfounded. It had something to do with what was in his bag, something that was cracking and breaking? Whatever it was, it had clearly upset Showoff. Lennae frowned and knelt beside K’lir to get a better view of what was going on.

Quack?

The absurdity of the situation was too much for Lennae to handle, who began laughing after a long moment of silence in which she registered that the white fluffball that K’lir held was, in fact, a duck. “That is indeed a duck,” she said between laughs, trying to calm herself and failing. “Though how and why you have a duck in your bag are far more interesting questions.”

[glamourie]

How would you feel about a salamandyr?

The reply came not from K’lir, but from Calistoth. Naturally the highly territorial green picked up on her rider being spoken to, and for once, she did not reply with hostility. That was because she had every intention of getting revenge for it - through sneaky means. Salamandyrs, in Calistoth’s opinion, were the absolute worst pets possible for someone - especially a dragon rider. They were nuisances, in her not-so-humble opinion, and she had a feeling that Amith did not know just how agitating the creatures were. And Calistoth would not tell her. No, instead she’d talk them up like they were adorable. See Showoff, how funny he was? She was sure she could convince her… and then it was only a matter of convincing LirHers to get Lennae to the hatching. A salamandyr would be suitable punishment for daring to speak directly to Hers. She would not stand for that.

K’lir outwardly appeared to be oblivious to his plotting green. Amith’s pleas made him smile, and he glanced at Lennae suggestively. However, the other greenrider’s consent to go to the salamandyr hatching sealed the deal. Somehow, he’d have to make one of them like her. It wouldn’t be hard. He could just ‘accidentally’ dump meat on her if it came down to it, but Lennae admitted to having no pets. Salamandyrs tended to bias toward those with no pets. While he didn’t exactly approve of Calistoth’s motives (was she incapable of being nice to other greens?!), he did like her idea. It also saved him from replying to Amith out loud and thus letting Lennae in on the evil scheme. He wasn’t looking forward to the idea of trying to convince his green she was willing to talk to the other dragon - so it was nice that he was spared that bit of nuisance.

Somehow, he had a feeling if Lennae ever suspected what he was up to, she’d want to throttle him. But laughing was the ideal way to die, in his opinion... So he had to succeed first. Then she could kill him.

Primarily focused on the duck in his hands, K’lir raised an eyebrow. The duckling wiggled its wings and snuggled into his palms for warmth, making odd squeak-quack noises; it was identifiable as a duck but just barely. Recognizing it must have been cold, he pulled the creature to his chest and snuggled it up to his own warmth as Showoff gave a low hiss from his shoulder. The duckling did not appear to notice, having quite effectively imprinted on K’lir. The little baby duck snuggled into his arms and vanished into the folds of the boy’s clothes, as though it were made for the exact purpose of hiding her. K’lir quirked an eyebrow, then turned his head slightly to address the steadily-growing-furious salamandyr on his shoulder.

“Did you really hatch a duck while trying to eat it?” he asked, then glanced at Lennae with a smirk. Showoff hissed at him for his trouble, and K’lir burst into hysterical laughter. To him it was hilarious. The salamandyr was clearly not very good at eating eggs if he hatched them by accident. That she was laughing too helped to make him feel less guilty, though Showoff, in his fury, bounced off of K’lir’s shoulder and skittered away on the ground… clearly not happy. Once he was out of sight, and the greenrider managed to calm himself enough to speak, he looked back at Lennae. “R’wign bought me an avian egg. He was mad because I gave him a fire lizard egg. It hatched a queen. He was quite furious with me… oh Faranth, Showoff is terrible at eating eggs, clearly…”

I declare the duck mine. It makes the worm mad. It’s mine now, Calistoth stated to her rider (privately). Mustn’t let Amith in on her plans!

[weaving]

Amith jumped as Calistoth spoke to her. Her first instinct was to get as far away as possible from the other green. Of all the dragons in the weyr, Calistoth was possibly the one that Amith feared the most. She had been thankful that they weren’t in the same wing and that their weyrs weren’t even close together. To suddenly have her greatest fear speaking to her was, well, unnerving. As the shock wore off, the other green’s words finally registered. Amith had been expecting an attack and instead, Calistoth was talking about salamandyrs? In fact, she was asking her if she wanted one, as though she might actually know how to make certain that Lennae impressed one. It should have seemed suspicious, but Amith was far too trusting to suspect anyone of having anything but the best intentions. The thought that she’d offended her clutchsister never even entered her mind.

A salamandyr? I’d love one, but I’m not certain that Mine would appreciate it. She thinks they are annoying and troublesome, but they seem nice. Amith spoke timidly, uncertain whether or not she would offend Calistoth in some way. The last thing she needed was to make an enemy out of the other green.

Immediately after agreeing to attend the next ‘mandyr hatching, Lennae regretted saying yes. Perhaps she could conveniently come down with a cold around the time that the eggs were supposed to hatch. Or she could break her leg and get stuck in the infirmary. There was no way that K’lir could get away with dragging an invalid to the hatching. One of the healers would probably kill him if he tried. She didn’t trust Lir to not try to do something to make one of the litter annoyances impress to her. If all else failed, he’d probably shove one of the hatching eggs in her hands before she realized what was going on. Nope, she was definitely going to have to figure out a way to get out of attending. K’lir would just have to understand.

“You got him a queen fire lizard and he got you back with a duck? I’d say you got the better end of the bargain.” Yup, fire lizards were definitely worse than ducks. A duck didn’t last forever. A duck didn’t have the ability to follow you around everywhere, even when you wanted to be alone. A duck could become food (not that she would encourage K’lir to eat his new pet). K’lir’s duck couldn’t reproduce and create more annoyances for the weyr to deal with while R’wign’s fire lizard most certainly would. Yup, K’lir definitely didn’t suffer as much as he could have. Poor R’wign though. “How many does he have now?” She asked, referring to the healer. “Four? Five?”

The fit of laughter finally ending, Lennae was better able to study the newest addition to K’lir’s odd family. Small and round and white, the duckling reminded Lennae quite a bit of the snowy north where she’d grown up. “She’s like a little snowball,” she murmured, remembering the snowball fights she’d had as a child. She and the others had built elaborate tunnels connected to forts made out of snow. Their battles would last for as long as the weather permitted before the next storm hit. Perhaps one day, if the war ever ended, she and Amith would take a little vacation up north, just for the day. Yes, that would be nice.

Why don’t we get a duck? You seem to like them. Lennae sighed. She should have expected this. Why had she even come down to the caravans? No, she replied wearily, and left it at that.

[glamourie]

Nice was one way to put it. Calistoth did not correct her clutchsister. (Truthfully, she'd even forgotten that Amith was from the same clutch as her. Other greens were not remembered unless they were Jeminorth, who she resented, or Phremath, who she looked down on and was consequently nice to.) She instead went silent, letting the idea of a salamandyr stew for Amith. If she thought they were nice already there was no need to talk them up. From there, she felt certain K'lirHers would help in her wicked scheme. He was already thrilled by the idea, and Calistoth knew her rider well enough that she didn't bother wasting energy trying to encourage him to do something he'd do without her help. He obviously liked Amith's and though it irritated her (she could not stand the idea of sharing K'lirHers with anyone else, let alone another female and only the knowledge that the other greenrider could not compete with her for his affection kept her comforted), she made no effort to distract. Instead, the green sprawled out in her spot away from the caravans (the farm animals were too tempting; she wanted to eat them, which would undoubtedly get her scolded) and rested her head on her claws. Naptime.

While the green could lounge out and sleep pretty much anywhere (she was arrogant enough to have no fear), K'lir was not quite so lucky. With the duckling snuggling into his arms as if he were its mother (and its touch was loving, he noticed with a growing sense of alarm), he was sure he was going to get a lot less sleep. Baby birds were hardly self-sufficient like salamandyrs tended to be - or maybe he just couldn't recall Showoff being a baby. "He doesn't dare give me anything more complicated than an avian, not with Kahrelir at home. I can ruin his life," K'lir replied honestly. He rarely got more than an hour of sleep at a time before the baby woke up fussing. Bizarrely, Kahrelir was not a loud child. No, he fussed, but it wasn't so much the noise as the flailing; he knew very well that he could wake his papa up with pulling on him and rubbing his face, since K'lir slept with the baby in his furs. Sometimes he was grateful for the fact that his son didn't screech. Other times, he wondered whether or not he was okay -- it wasn't normal, was it?

... Two candlemarks, he'd gone, before he started frantically worrying about Rel. He was quite disappointed. The boy was with his mother. Surely he was fine. So why did K'lir suddenly want to drop the conversation and run back to check on him? Paranoia?

Oh, she'd asked a question. Squinting, K'lir counted off on one hand, mentally listing the names of R'wign's flying nuisances to himself. When he was sure he had the right ones, he replied, "Five, now, I think. Six if you count Checkoth." He counted Checkoth. The brown was ...bizarre. High maintenance in his own way, though K'lir was certain he had no room to talk with Calistoth's general attitude. Fortunately, that thought did not rouse the green's anger because she was sound asleep. He envied her the ability to rest on a whim. He couldn't. "I'll tell you like I tell him: I've got Calistoth, a salamandyr and a baby. I still think I'm worse off, and now I've got a duckling on top of it all." He squinted at the little bundle of feathers and crinkled his nose. "It looks odd. Snowball, yes... Wait, what makes you so sure it's a girl? I'm calling HIM Fuzz. He's probably a boy, you know. Pretty birds usually are. Fuzzy fuzzbutt. I can just imagine Showoff finding Uu'n and repeating 'Do not want' over and over again... heh. That's what he gets for trying to eat the egg when I told him not to. Do you want to hold him?"

Yes, K'lir was contrary. He just assumed it was a male duck. He had no intentions of, like, lifting its feathers to check. Getting personal with animals wasn't his idea of a good time. Not like he knew how to anyway. As far as he was concerned, it was male until it laid an egg and if it laid an egg he was feeding it to Showoff. Hopefully the bronze had more success eating that one than he did with Fuzz. Fuzzy McFuzzbutt.

[weaving]

A salamandyr. Hers would get a salamandyr. She’d already promised to go with Calistoth’s and maybe if she asked Calistoth nicely enough, she could convince K’lir to make certain that Lennae gotten one. The other green had gone silent however, and rather than disturb her sister, Amith chose not to bother her for fear of upsetting the other green. If she angered her, then Calistoth would probably tell hers to make sure that Lennae didn’t get one and then it would be no good. She wriggled about on her ledge excitedly, unable to contain her happiness at the prospect of getting a pet.

Oh yeah. The baby. Those tended to take quite a bit of effort. Lennae held back the face she had wanted to make at the mention of Kahrelir. She was sure that the child was cute (K’lir was after all), but the idea of having one herself frightened her more than anything else. Impressing an entire clutch of salamandyrs would be preferable to having a child. It wasn’t that she didn’t like kids, though she would probably turn down babysitting for longer than a few candlemarks, but she didn’t think she would ever be able to raise a child herself. That was what fostering was for of course, but it didn’t seem that many Selenitas riders followed that tradition.

Just because she didn’t want children didn’t mean that she didn’t have an interest in other people’s babies however. “How old is Kahrelir now?” She asked, honestly curious. She had still been in High Reaches when the child was born and while R’wign had mentioned that K’lir and Beka had had a baby at the gather, he’d failed to mention how old Kahrelir was. She hadn’t seen him about the weyr either, though that could in part be due to the fact that she’d been avoiding K’lir for a while. That was usually the way things worked if you were trying to avoid someone after all.

“Fuzzy…Fuzzbutt…” Lennae let the name hang in the air for a moment, an eyebrow lifted in question. It was absolutely ridiculous and therefore quite typical of K’lir. He probably realized how ridiculous he sounded and was doing it on purpose, but, really, Fuzzy Fuzzbutt? And why did he think that the hatchling wasn’t a girl? The duckling looked awfully feminine to her. Oh well. When he started finding eggs all over his weyr, he’d know who was right. She’d even wager it if not for the tiny bit of doubt in her mind. And if she was wrong, K’lir would probably force her to attend every salamandyr hatching or babysit, or something else equally as torturous.

“Well, you can call her Fuzz, but I’ll call her Snowball.” Poor duck was going to get an identity complex sooner or later. “And yes, I’d love to hold her.” Lennae held out her cupped palms to take the duckling from K’lir. She looked awfully soft and cute and as long as the duckling wasn’t hers, she was more than willing to hold it. That was how she was with most creatures and children. Of course, Lennae half expected K’lir to take back his offer for continuing to call his pet a girl.

[glamourie]

That was an odd question. K’lir blinked, mildly surprised that Lennae knew Kahrelir’s name; he was fairly certain he hadn’t told her, though certainly the child was no great mystery or secret. Often he carried the babe around with him when he went out, because he didn’t trust babysitters. The lone exception (save for Beka) was his brother. He didn’t even trust his best friend (R’wign) with the child. Then again, said best friend hated children and recoiled at the mere sight of them, as if they were the most terrifying thing he could ever witness, so it made some sense that K’lir was reluctant to trust him with his son. He cocked his head to the side, went over what he said mentally, and furrowed his brow. Did he say Relir’s name? He didn’t think he had, but maybe - maybe Lennae was friendly with Beka? Or R’wign opened his big mouth. More likely the latter. Beka had very few friends. Something about her was off-putting. K’lir just attracted winners. See: Uu’n.

Kahrelir was conceived during Calistoth’s first flight. That was two turns previous. Had Lennae been there for Beka’s pregnancy? No - he thought she was gone by then. So odd. “He’s a turn and a half. Still doesn’t really talk much though. It’s actually concerning, he sort of points to show what he means, and he barely ever cries. He gets my attention when I’m sleeping by pulling on Showoff, who is fully capable of waking the dead when he’s feeling disgruntled, cursed creature.” Quite a clever tactic though, he had to confess. He’d thought about taking Kahrelir to the healers, but as far as he knew, none of them specialized in infants and children. He knew the lack of noise wasn’t exactly common, but… maybe it was not a sign of something being wrong. He hoped not, at least, because otherwise Relir was a perfectly healthy child. He just didn’t make a peep… “He’s with Beka right now. She’s not much for socializing, and with Dael close to Running, I didn’t want to bring him here with me.” Seemed logical to him.

Oh, but how dare she scorn his duck’s name! Fuzzy Fuzzbutt was a perfectly acceptable name and he was not about to be dissuaded to - to something so unoriginal as Snowball. The greenrider sniffed indignantly and looked at the fuzzy blob in his arms with an undeniably growing affection; some part of him was amused that she’d hatched on top of him and Lennae both. It was like they’d had a baby! … A baby duck! Far less maintenance than a real one and much less likely to require poopy diaper changes, which was always an appealing factor in choosing a pet. Pure white, too.

“You can hold him,” K’lir countered, holding out the little ball of feathers for Lennae to take. “Just make sure to keep him warm, he’s trembling. I think I should get a blanket or something to wrap around him, just so he doesn’t freeze. Newborn babies usually require more warmth. I don’t even know how to care for a duck, I should go ask someone…” That made him pause, then he glanced sideways at Lennae before a smirk bloomed over his features. That was almost never a good sign and K’lir knew it but he’d be damned if he let a good opportunity pass just because he was worried over the animal’s safety. “You know, you could always get personal with it… lift up its tail to check. I’m fairly sure the duck will mind less if it’s you. I mean, you’re a lady. I would feel wrong getting quite so personal with him but that’s because, you know, guys take that sort of thing personally. I’d know.”

Indeed he would. Not that that had ever stopped K’lir before, but he was not about to tell Lennae that. He wanted to see if he could convince her to do it. Poor Fuzz.

[weaving]

Lennae listened politely to K’lir as he spoke about Kahrelir, but didn’t know what to say. ‘Congratulations’ was a bit late and she couldn’t confirm K’lir’s suspicion that something was wrong with his kid or reassure him that everything was okay since she had no experience with children, her own or otherwise. So she simply nodded along with his words and murmured something to the effect of ‘I’m sure he’s perfectly normal’, though knowing his parents it was unlikely, and ‘he must be cute’ and left it at that. If there was anything else she should have said, it entirely escaped her brain. Children weren’t exactly her forte. She could feel excitement coming from Amith as the green realized that Calistoth’s had a hatchling, but the green thankfully remained silent. Later she’d probably be begging to meet Kahrelir, but for now she was perfectly content to lay about in silence, dreaming of the day that Lennae would have a salamandyr.

If she noticed K’lir’s reaction to her dismissal of name choice, she ignored it, instead taking the ball of fluff from him, holding the duckling close to her body to keep it warm. “Poor little Snowball,” she murmured, wrapping the edge of her jacket around her as she tucked her in close. “You must be freezing and your daddy’s not doing anything to keep you warm.” She couldn’t quite hide the smile as she spoke, knowing that she was purposely baiting the other greenrider. Her eyes remained on Snowball/Fuzz the entire time, knowing that if she actually looked at K’lir, she wouldn’t be able to contain her laughter. This meant that she missed his growing smirk, leaving her completely unprepared for his suggestion.

“Do what?” Lennae’s head snapped up at K’lir’s words, her eyes wide. Was he serious? After a moment of consideration however, she realized that it really wasn’t that bad. It was only a duck, after all. Did they really care? She highly doubted it, though the idea had her squirming. And then there was the fact that Lennae didn’t know how to tell the difference between male and female baby ducks. Were there any outward signs? Maybe it would be easier to just ask one of the traders. Still, if he wouldn’t check, she would. At least one of them had to be mature. For Snowball/Fuzz’s sake.

“Alright.” She declared. “I’ll do it. I’m sure she won’t mind. But let’s find her a blanket first? At least that way she’ll be warm and comfortable.” With that, she stood, looking around for a place to find something to wrap the duckling in. Who to ask? They could probably buy one from a trader, but it would be cheaper to just get one from one of their weyrs. Of course, that would take a while and the sooner that Snowball/Fuzz got warm, the better. Then again, the sooner they found a blanket, the sooner that Lennae would have to go looking around down there and while she was trying to be very mature about the entire situation, she doubted that K’lir would. He’d probably never let her live it down. Shards, he’d probably go around and announce to the entire weyr that she was some sort of duck pervert. Her cheeks reddened at the thought.

She’d just have to find a way to make him keep his mouth shut. This was probably the only time she wished that she had some sort of annoying pet. Then she could threaten to make the thing follow K’lir around if he said anything. Oh well. She’d just have to come up with something else equally as torturous. What, though, she didn’t know.